Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas
by AndAllThatMishigas
Summary: Set mid-s8. Small Christmas fic for Harry and Ruth.


**Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas**

Harry Pearce, as a rule, did not pay any attention to Christmas. He worked more often than not. And holidays always days of heightened awareness on the Grid. It never failed that there was chatter of some kind about an attack around any major holiday.

This year, however, was strangely different. Things had been different for a while now. Ros was still settling into her position as Section Chief. Lucas was still figuring out how to return to a life of freedom in England. Tariq was still quite new at his position as Section D Chief Technical Officer. And all of them were still mourning Jo's untimely death.

For Harry, it was truly the best of times and the worst of times. For Ruth had returned to him, had returned to the Grid. But she was so different. So broken. So far away. Harry desperately wished he could reach her, but he knew better than to pry. She was reeling from the loss of her husband and son and dear friend. George died on that screen in front of her. Nico was taken away. Jo had been killed. All of it was more horrifying than any person should ever have to experience. And yet Ruth was still here. She was back at her station. She was working long hours. She was just as brilliant as she was before, if not more so. And all Harry could do was sit in his office and watch her through the window.

That was such an apt metaphor for their entire relationship, it seemed. They could see and hear each other, but they were separated by a thick pane of glass. He desperately wanted to break through and reach her, but he couldn't. He shouldn't. And he wouldn't.

But Christmas was upon them. It was a special time of year, for truth and love and good will. Such things were very rare in Harry's world. And he was missing them more than he otherwise might have.

And because of that, he paid very close attention when Tariq had asked Ruth what her Christmas plans were as Harry passed by their desks.

"I'm rostered off this year. Which is strange, actually. I've never been rostered off for Christmas before. But I don't have any plans. I'll probably just stay in and read a book," Ruth told him.

"You aren't going to see your family?" Tariq asked.

Ruth gave him a very sad smile. "I haven't got any family anymore," she replied.

Harry knew better than to eavesdrop, so he hurried on his way and did not bother to pay attention to what Tariq said when Ruth asked him his plans.

Over the next few days, Harry could not seem to get Ruth's words out of his mind. He could not help but think about her all alone in her flat. It was a dreary place, he knew, having inspected it himself before signing off on the Service providing a safehouse to Ruth for her residence. It was the least they could do for her, after all that had happened. And Harry had hoped to get her something nicer, but the DG had overruled him. Harry's feelings for Ruth were not exactly common knowledge, but the rumor mill still circulated. The fact that Mani had targeted Ruth for what he knew Harry had told her had not escaped the higher ups. Even if there was nothing between them now, everyone in the world, it seemed, knew that there once was. Or might have been. And that was enough.

And it was enough. Harry knew his feelings for Ruth had grown and changed but not lessened over the intervening years. He had been desperate to keep her memory alive until such a thing had tormented him beyond words. He had then tried to forget her, but found he could no sooner forget his own name than forget Ruth Evershed. And so he had resolved to bury every though and feeling and affection for her deep down in his heart where it could never escape. Yet here he was. On Christmas morning, staring in the mirror of his bathroom, and thinking of Ruth.

It was surely madness, this thing he was doing. But that did not stop him. He showered and shaved and got dressed and packed up a few things and got in his car before he could think the better of it. And by the time he could even contemplate doing anything else, he had arrived at her front door.

Harry rang the bell. He could hear Ruth moving around inside. There was a pause as she looked through the viewer before opening the door. "Harry?" she greeted in confusion.

"Happy Christmas, Ruth," he replied.

"What are you doing here?" she asked.

He forced a smile, despite the pounding of his nervous heart. "I overheard you say you didn't have any plans for Christmas, so I thought I'd pop by and bring you a few things."

Ruth looked at him with a furrowed brow of suspicion before she moved aside to let him in. She closed and locked the door behind him. "What sort of things?"

Harry put the bag he'd brought on the ground and pulled three items out of it. The first was a bottle of wine. The second was a parcel wrapped in green paper. And the third was a parcel wrapped in red paper.

"What's this for?" she asked, still quite wary of everything.

"I…" He trailed off, realizing that he did not know how to properly explain his presence.

"Yes?" she pressed.

Harry sighed, relenting. "I knew you were rostered off, and so I thought I'd…I'd see how you are. Since it is Christmas and all."

Ruth looked down at her feet in their fuzzy blue socks and pursed her lips, trying not to smile. After a moment, she looked back up at him. "Did you get me Christmas presents?"

"Sort of."

"Sort of?"

"Well, the wine is a gift. The other things aren't. Not really, anyway. The wine was the only thing I bought. For the occasion, at least." Harry was stammering through his explanation, unsure of what he could possibly say.

She looked at him with even more confusion. "Shall I open them, then?"

"If you like," he replied.

Ruth took the two parcels and bottle of wine from him and led the way toward the sitting area. "Please sit down. I'll get us some glasses and a corkscrew."

Harry did sit down on the sofa and nearly reminded Ruth that it was only ten in the morning, which may have been a bit early to start on wine, but it was Christmas, after all.

She poured them each a glass of the red wine he'd provided. They clinked their glasses and murmured a soft "Merry Christmas" to one another before taking a few sips.

"Go on and open the others," Harry prompted.

Ruth set her wine glass on the table and took the red-wrapped package first. It was very obviously a book, but until she ripped the paper off and saw the title, she had no clue what it was. She gave a small gasp upon seeing it. And she opened the front cover to see if it was what she thought. It was.

"I saved it for you. After you left, I couldn't bear to let Section X take it. I had Jo give you back all your things, but this one I held onto. I should have given it back straight away, but I suppose part of me wanted to hold onto it just a little while longer," Harry explained.

Ruth gently touched the inscription on the first page where, all those years ago, Harry had wished her a happy birthday. She closed the book and traced the title. Ovid's Amores. "Thank you, Harry," she said softly. "I'm glad you kept this." She looked up at him, her eyes shining with emotion. "I thought a lot about it while I was running, what I'd bring if I'd had a chance to pack. Even just a handful of things to put in my purse. And this book was the top of my list. This book was the best gift I'd ever received. And…and it was made all the more special because it was from you."

Harry did not know what to say to that. He just nodded in response.

"Thank you, Harry," Ruth said.

He swallowed hard and pressed on. "Open the other."

Ruth ripped the green paper off to find a simple white box. She lifted the lid and inside found a beautiful green silk scarf. "What's this, then?" she asked.

"It wasn't something I saved of yours. Not really, anyway," he clarified. "I never got to give it to you before. But I found it in a shop just after we got back from Havensworth. I had intended on giving it to you as a Christmas present that year. But obviously I didn't get to."

"And you kept it all this time?"

He nodded. "Up on a shelf in my closet, tucked away so it wouldn't taunt me. I think I always held some foolish hope that I'd get to give it to you one day."

"And now you have."

"Yes," Harry replied. "Now I have."

A thought crossed Harry's mind in that moment, and his eyes roamed the room a bit wildly. "What are you looking for?" Ruth asked, trying to follow his gaze.

"Oh nothing. Never mind."

Inexplicably, she gave a light chuckle. "No, tell me!" she insisted.

Harry regretted his words as they even came from his lips. "I was hoping to find a bit of mistletoe."

Ruth's breath caught in her throat at that. But she recovered quickly. "You don't need mistletoe as an excuse to kiss me, Harry," she said quietly.

"I don't?"

She shook her head. And with that, there was nothing left but for Harry to kiss her. There was no great passion in that kiss. No hungry, desperate movement of lips and tongues. Harry only pressed his lips to hers gently and briefly. Ruth hummed with a happy little sound.

Harry pulled away before he got carried away. He had kissed her once and would not press an advantage.

Ruth's eyes blinked open after a moment. Her whole face was pink, and she was smiling. It had been so very long since he had seen her smile. There was such magic in that smile. But she was looking at him now with a beautiful sparkle in her eye. "Harry," she asked. "What are you doing here, really?" she asked.

He had told her earlier that he had overheard that she had no plans, which was the truth. But plenty of his other officers had no plans and he had no intention of dropping in on any of them. He decided to tell Ruth a little more of the truth. "I didn't want you to be alone on Christmas. You've not had the best time of things lately, which is an understatement, I know. And since it's Christmas, I just didn't want you to be on your own. Probably not my place, but that's why I'm here," he told her earnestly.

Ruth smiled once more. "That's very sweet of you, Harry. And I'm glad you're here. And I love my presents, thank you."

"The pleasure is mine, Ruth," he replied.

"I didn't get you anything," she realized with a frown.

"You don't need to."

"But I want to!"

Harry took a bold chance and leaned in to kiss her again, slightly more insistently than before. "You're all I want for Christmas, Ruth," he whispered.

"Does that mean you'll stay and spend the day with me?" she asked.

"If you like."

"Yes, please. Because you're all I want for Christmas, too."


End file.
